


Gymslip

by DiscoNight



Series: Daddy Even [1]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Baby D/S relationship where they're learning as they go, Bottom Isak, Clothing Kink, Daddy Even, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Even gets it wrong, Exhibitionism, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping (brief), Possessive Even, Sex, Sexual Harassment (brief), Top Even, basically filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9718700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscoNight/pseuds/DiscoNight
Summary: Isak wakes up grumpy and Even decides to teach him a lesson, which goes a little further than he expected.  Because everyone is apparently gay at Nissen.  Cue the make-up sex.This is pure filth.  I'm sorry.Written for a prompt on the Skam Kink Meme.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write some sex to get me through being single on Valentine's Day. This is not a fluffy Valentine's fic, it is pure porn with a vague plot attached to it. A really, really vague plot.
> 
> Filled for a prompt at the Skam Kink meme which you can find here (spoilers!): http://skam-kink.livejournal.com/580.html?thread=5700#t5700
> 
> And the main kink meme thread: http://skam-kink.livejournal.com/580.html
> 
> It has been pointed out to me that this fic may be perceived as portraying Even as abusive. I don't see it that way, and you can read my interpretation of this in response to a comment on the second page of comments. What I would say here is that Even is not a perfect dom, he does make a big mistake in this fic, and the fic does not go into detail in making him see this, acknowledge this, and take appropriate steps in responding to Isak's potentially traumatic experience. You may therefore prefer not to read as a result.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, or even if you didn't, please consider filling/making more prompts at the kink meme!
> 
> Trigger Warnings for some brief non-consensual groping and verbal harassment.
> 
> <3

Isak loves waking up next to Even.  There is no place he’d rather be than curled up in bed with Even pressing into him from behind, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other reaching upwards to keep a hand tangled in Isak’s tousled hair.

It’s perfect, until the moment it isn’t, which is always the moment Even pulls away from him with a kiss and tells him it’s time to get up.  And that moment arrives much earlier than Isak was expecting this morning.

They’re woken up by Eskild at 6.30am; he knocks on the door, yells out, “You better not be fucking in there,” and then enters, all within the space of a few seconds.  Isak blinks himself awake and groans.

“Eskild, what the _fuck_?!”

“Language,” Even whispers pointedly into his ear, his face scratchy from sleep, and despite being deeply asleep only moments before, Isak tingles at the sound of it.

“Sorry, Isak; sorry, Even,” Eskild says, not sounding sorry in the slightest.  “It’s just… I need Isak to find some old clothes.  For the children of Syria.”

Isak groans.  “Go away.”

“But the _children_ , Isak.”

“You’re fucking that guy again, aren’t you?” Isak asks, attempting to close his eyes as Even shifts next to him  “You’re so transparent.”

“Well, I think it sounds like a _brilliant_ idea,” Even tells Eskild, pressing a kiss to Isak’s cheek.  “Isak will give you some stuff before he goes to school.”

“No Isak fucking _won’t_ ,” Isak says, determined not to give in to this.  But then he feels Even’s hand groping his arse, one finger brushing teasingly against his hole.  He tries to disguise a whimper by pressing his face into the pillow and feigning sleepiness.  He’s pretty much wide awake at this point.

“Thanks, Even,” Eskild says sweetly.  “See you both at breakfast!”

Isak pushes back at Even’s finger as soon as Eskild is gone, but Even laughs under his breath and slaps his arse lightly.  “Come on, angel.  Time to help the children of Syria.”

 

***

 

So Isak is in a pretty foul mood by the time he’s finished pulling old clothes out of his wardrobe and chest of drawers, as well as attempting to get ready for school.  There’s no time for Even to fuck him, of course, and he stomps through to the kitchen where he finds _everyone_ in there - Even, Eskild, Linn and Noora - joking and laughing as though Monday mornings _aren’t_ the worst thing known to mankind.

“Shall we go?” Isak asks Even.  Even looks at him with raised eyebrows, his long legs pushing out so his chair swings back and forth.

“You haven’t eaten breakfast.”

“I don’t want to be late,” he says, frowning, though really he just feels like being difficult.  Breakfast is something Even insists on, even though Isak has never really seen the point of it.  “I’ve got Biology first thing and -”

“Sit,” Even says simply.  Eskild and Noora are both stifling laughs as he huffs out a breath and sits down.  He narrows his eyes at the two of them.

“I assume Eskild didn’t wake _you_ up at 6am to sort through your clothes,” he says to Noora.  Eskild looks at him, scandalised, as Even stands up to make Isak some breakfast.  Isak squirms as Even leans down to kiss the back of the neck and tells him quietly, “Manners, Isak.”

“It was _actually_ 6.30am, Isak.  And I told Noora last night,” Eskild answers.

“Why didn’t you tell _me_ last night?”

“Because you were… indisposed, when I got home,” his housemate answers tactfully.  Isak blushes nevertheless, as Even chuckles to himself.  Isak looks over to see him pushing two eggs around the pan.  “Anyway, no harm done.”

“Yes, no harm done.  Apart from me being tired all Monday.  Oh, and that’s just _perfect_ when I have double gym in the afternoon.  Thanks Eskild,” he says, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.  He glances over, wondering if he’s gone too far, and sure enough Even is looking at him with a stern expression on his face.

“Well I’m just trying to help the starving children of Syria,” Eskild mutters, following this with a pout.  Linn laughs suddenly at that.

“I thought you were going to bang that guy again?  The one who organises it?”

Isak makes a _see_ gesture at Even, flinging his hands towards Eskild, but Even ignores it as he plates up the eggs onto a slice of bread, fresh out of the toaster.

“I don’t want eggs first thing,” Isak says, just to be difficult, when Even puts it in front of him.  “I’m just going to make some cereal and -”

“Cereal has so much refined sugar in it,” Eskild says helpfully.  “And your boyfriend has just been kind enough to make you a nutritious breakfast, so-”

“I didn’t ask for _your_ opinion, Eskild,” Isak snaps, his voice harder than he intended.  Eskild pulls back, hurt, and Isak immediately feels like shit.  He really did wake up grumpy today.  He sighs.  “Eskild, I-”

“It’s fine,” Eskild says dramatically.  Isak rolls his eyes.  “No, no, Isak, just continue to ask for my advice when you want it, and snap at me when I offer it unsolicited.  I understand.  Goodbye!”

He flings his head back and walks out of the kitchen door, before peeking back round the frame a couple of seconds later.  “Oh, leave those clothes outside of my bedroom when you’re finished.  Love you guys.  Bye!”

Isak looks at Even, who is still staring at him with a disapproving expression on his face.

“He’s not even mad!” Isak points out exasperatedly.

“Eat your breakfast,” Even tells him, pushing the plate closer.  Isak groans and begins to tear at it savagely with his knife and fork.

 

***

 

After he finishes eating, he checks the time and sees they’re going to be late for school unless they leave, like… now.  He swears, hurtling to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and when he comes out Even is handing him his rucksack.

“I put your gym kit in there,” he tells Isak.  Isak shoulders the bag, feeling disgruntled.

“You know my timetable?”

“Of course I know your timetable.  Don’t you know mine?”

Isak grimaces slightly.  “No comment.”

They’re almost out of the door when Isak remembers his old clothes, still piled up on the bed.  He turns back, swearing violently, but Even shoves him out of the door.  “I’ve already given those clothes to Eskild.  Let’s go.”

Isak shrugs Even off grouchily and Even shakes his head at him.

“Are you _trying_ to get yourself punished?”

Isak freezes at that, feeling something familiar and exciting and also terrifying twist in his stomach.  He tries to shake himself out of the mood but instead he just finds himself frowning again.

“We’re going to be late, Even.  Come on.”

Even grabs his hand and pulls him forward.  “No, we won’t.”

 

***

 

Even turns out to be the right one on this occasion; they make it to school with a few minutes to spare, though Isak still feels out-of-sorts, tired and irritable as he makes his way to Biology.  There, Sana is asking him too many questions about the test they’ve got later this week; has he revised, has he written notes, can she check them to make sure he’s written them down correctly?  He ends up moving to the next seat over, basically snarling at her to leave him alone.

Which she does, until lunchtime, when she actually _reports back_ to Even after he asks her how biology went.  

“Well,” she begins, “It would have been better if Isak hadn’t bitten my head off for _attempting_ to help him.”

“Isak?” Even asks.  Isak shoots her a death glare and then attempts to smile innocently at Even.

“Yes?”

He can see that Even is genuinely a bit annoyed with him at this point and he falters, looking down at the table.   _Okay.  Okay, he needs to get it together._

“Sorry, Sana,” he mumbles.

She leans closer to him.  “What was that, Isak?”

“Sorry, okay?” he says, a little louder.  He looks at her with doe eyes, and she crosses her arms, tilting to one side.  Finally she nods and rolls her eyes.

“Apology accepted, I guess,” she says, before walking away.

He looks at Even, hoping for a smile of approval, but Even just shakes his head slightly.

“What?” he asks, confused.  “I apologised!”

“Yes, in a very half-hearted way.  You’re lucky she’s nice enough to forgive you.”

 _Sana, nice?_ She’s the grumpiest person Isak knows, and Isak includes himself in that assessment.  He tries not to show his frustration at Even’s lack of acceptance.  It had taken a _lot_ to swallow his pride, with the way he’s feeling right now.  

His heart sinks when he checks the time and sees it’s almost the end of lunch.  He isn’t ready.

He looks around and sees his friends are engaged in their own conversations, and that Even is still looking at him.  He takes a quick breath for courage and leans across, whispering to Even, “You know, there’s an easier way to get me out of this mood?”  And then he takes another breath before smiling in what he hopes is a seductive way.  “ _Daddy_.”

Even smiles, eyes narrowing with what looks like lust, and Isak feels his heart lift.  Yes, this is what he needs.  He needs Even’s hands on him, his fingers inside him; he needs Even to pin him down and fuck him, slow and sensually, and then harder, as hard as Isak can take it.

He leans in close for a kiss, and Even’s lips brush against his ear; he starts to whisper something and Isak readies himself in anticipation for what he’s sure will come next.

“Stop trying to get out of gym class, you little brat,” Even tells him.

Isak pulls away in confusion and Even takes a bite of his sandwich, his smile widening.  Embarrassed, Isak slips away from the table and heads to the boys’ bathroom.

 

***

 

Isak sulks in the cubicle for a while, wanting Even to worry about him, but Even doesn’t follow him, nor does he text him, and in the end Isak shakes himself out of his temper tantrum (because even _he_ recognises that’s what this is) and heads to his gym class, for which he’s already late.  There’s nobody in the changing rooms when he gets there, and he hears the familiar noise of yelling and jostling and shouting outside.  Fuck, he _hates_ this class.

He takes off his shoes and jeans and puts on his shorts and sneakers first, because it’s kind of cold and he doesn’t want to lose the warmth of his hoodie until the last possible moment.  Then, bracing himself, he unzips his hoodie, unbuttons the jean shirt he’s wearing underneath and takes them both off.

He starts to pull his gym t-shirt on but stops when he realises it feels uncomfortably tight around his shoulders.  He looks at it, confused, and realises it’s an old one; he hasn’t worn it since the start of the first year and he’s shot up in height since then.

 _This is one of the t-shirts I sorted for Eskild this morning_ , he realises.  He’s confused, wondering how this happened, and then he remembers: Even packed his gym clothes.

Isak actually groans out loud to himself, an annoyed, prolonged noise that sounds more like a sob.  Of _course_ he’d chosen today to wear a shirt under his hoodie, and not a regular t-shirt.  Of _course_ the gym teacher has a strict ‘no hoodies’ rule.  Of _course_ his boyfriend is the biggest dickhead on the planet.

He pulls the t-shirt down, trying to stretch it out of shape, but it springs back up his stomach as soon as he lets go.

Nervously, he walks through to the shower rooms to look in the full length mirror there.  The t-shirt looks vaguely obscene stretched over his narrow frame (which nevertheless is less narrow than it was last year); he can see his nipples clearly through it, hard through as a result of the cold.  The material ends just above his belly button.  His shorts have always rested fairly low on his hips, and they’re shorter than Isak likes, because he generally has problems finding gym shorts that _don’t_ expose his thighs, due to his long legs.  Basically, there is an expanse of pale skin, above and below his shorts, which looks indecent to him.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, and is walking back through to get changed in order to skip the class when his gym teacher, Petter, comes through for a final sweep of the changing rooms.  His face narrows in suspicion when he sees Isak, frozen to one spot, his arms wrapped round his stomach.

“Valtersen, class started five minutes ago!”

“Sir, I can’t-” Isak indicates his body with a vague nod of his head, looking back up imploringly.  “I packed the wrong t-shirt and-”

Petter barely glances at him, he’s already halfway out of the door.

“No excuses!”

Yes, and of _course_ his gym teacher is one of those frustrated personal trainers types who decided to get into teaching for the extra cash but basically hates the students he’s forced to supervise.  

Isak swallows tightly, trying to work out how he’s going to get through the next fifty minutes.  He walks past the one-way mirror through which he can see the brightly lit gym, the male students in his class kicking a football round and yelling at each other raucously while the female students are led down by another teacher to the other end of the large room.

When he gets out onto the floor, nobody looks at him immediately, and he hangs back at the sides, trying to blend into nothing.  Petter yells at them to warm up, and Isak almost gasps out loud when he realises what that means.

“You too, Valtersen.”

A few of the other students glance back as he takes his place at the back of the huddle of students.  Two of them - a stocky boy named Nils, and his neanderthal of a best friend Alexander - ran their eyes up and down his body.  Nils’ mouth curls into a dangerous leer while Alex wolf whistles.  Petter blows his whistle to quieten them.

“Jogging up and down on the spot!” he barks out at them.

Isak tilts his head back, puffs out a breath, and begins to jog.  At least he’s positioned himself at the back, where nobody can see him during the warm-up unless they look back (though he knows he won’t be that lucky during the rest of the lesson.)   No sooner has he acknowledged that thought, though, does he notice Nils and Alex drifting further back with each jog, despite the fact that the jogging is supposed to be on the spot.  Isak glances at them, worried, and watches as they keep going, until they’re behind Isak.

Perfect.  Just perfect.

“Time to stretch,” Petter yells at them once they’re warmed through from jogging.  Isak glances over his shoulder to see Nils fixated on the skin exposed at the small of his back.  He feels a slight stirring of fear, then, but the teacher ignores his imploring eyes, instead staring at him pointedly until he joins in with the stretches, reaching over his head half-heartedly, but still enough to expose more skin.

There’s another wolf whistle, which their teacher doesn’t hear, followed by Alex saying, “Fuck, I’m glad I didn’t cut class today.”

 _Grin and bear it_ , Isak tells himself.   _It’s going to be over soon._

He continues to tell himself this through each and every stretch.  But each of those stretches show off more of his skin than he’s comfortable with, and it’s hard not to feel on display.  He tries to block out the comments from Nils and Alex, though at the point where they have to reach down and touch their toes, the fake-moaning they have taken to doing becomes so obnoxious that he looks round and shoots them a hateful look, to which they just grin at him.

He’s going to fucking kill Even when this lesson is finished.

Petter blows the whistle to signify the end of the warm-up, and he then splits them into teams for football.  Isak knows what this means: they’ll pretty much be left to get on with the lesson on their own while the man in charge of their safety and education texts his girlfriend from the sidelines.  He’s very open about this, and seems to be proud of being the worst, most oblivious teacher in the school.

Maybe Isak will be able to sneak out while he’s not watching.  He pulls the t-shirt down again but there’s no way it’s going to cover his stomach and hips completely, no matter how hard he tugs.  It feels restrictively tight at this point, like he can barely move in it, and he tries not to stamp his foot in frustration.

As he’s attempting to tug it down again, Nils walks past him and gives him an appraising look up, licking his lips slightly.

“Shall we just skip straight to the showers?” he asks.  Isak glares at him balefully, realising that if he tries to cut class, Nils and Alex will most likely just follow him to the changing rooms and make his life a misery there instead.

“You wish.”

“I do.  Every fucking night.  But look, you’ve come in looking like that, so maybe wishes _do_ come true.”

He winks, and walks to the middle of the pitch to pick up a coloured tabard.  Isak reluctantly follows him, hoping that maybe wearing one will give him a bit more dignity.  It covers his nipples, at least, but his stomach is still on show and if anything the tabs pull his t-shirt up a little futher.  He deliberately prolongs the process of joining his team which, thankfully, doesn’t contain his two tormentors.  Of course, that does mean they’re on the _other_ team, which could be equally as disastrous.

A couple of the boys on his team grin at him as he stands awkwardly on the outskirts, trying not to draw attention to himself, but thankfully they don’t say anything to him.  He feels as though everyone is watching him, even though logic tells him that isn’t true.  When they get into a huddle to assign positions, he feels a hand at his waist, another boy whose name he doesn’t know drawing him closer to the group, and he squirms uncomfortably, unsure of what this is; whether it’s an innocent or deliberate touch.

He barely hears what the captain is saying; his face feels red and he pulls away.  The teammate who was touching him grins at him, his face friendly, but Isak simply looks at the floor, continuing to blush.

The match starts and he hovers uselessly on the sidelines, not wanting to get too close to anyone.  At one point the ball lands at his feet and he kicks it away half-heartedly; it ends up in the possession of the opposing team and the captain yells at him.  After that he tries a little harder to get _over_ this shyness and just fucking play.  It’s simply a few inches of skin, he tells himself.  Nothing is going to happen to him in a room full of people.

And so for a time, he just plays as normal, pulling his shirt down every now and then (though this is harder with the tabard keeping it in place), hating how uncomfortable it feels.  He keeps one eye on the clock as it ticks painfully by.

He’s kind of distracted again when the ball lands at his feet a second time; he tries to dribble it over to the goal, which is in reach, and then someone tackles him from behind.  But he feels a hand at his waist again, cold fingers against his skin, and he whimpers slightly as the hand comes down to his arse and squeezes.  

He yelps, loses the ball, and turns round to see Alex kicking it over to one of his own teammates.  It all happened so quickly that he doubts anyone saw why he’d lost it.

“Maybe you should just let the boys play, Isak?  You can work out a cheer for half time if you like,” Nils says from behind him.  He turns round again, ready to push him away, but Nils is already gone, heading off after the ball.

 _It’s almost over_ , he tells himself.  There are fifteen minutes of the lesson left to go and it can’t come quickly enough.  He sticks closely to his other teammates, trying not to deliberately put himself too close to the ball, but eventually it comes back over and he can see the way to the goal is clear.  He quickly dribbles with the ball over to the goal and actually manages to score, but this victory feels short lived when someone comes up from behind him and pulls him into a hold from behind, deliberately touching his bare stomach as he holds Isak in position.

He whips his head round to see that it’s Nils; he squirms in his arms, trying to break free, as Nils whispers in his ear, “Do you have any idea how fuckable you look?”  When he continues his efforts to remove himself from the strong grip, Nils just laughs and holds him in position.  “I’m going to bend you over in the changing rooms with everyone watching,” he continues, and Isak gasps in fear before ramming his elbow into the larger boy’s chest.

Nils stumbles away, winded, and Isak launches himself at him again, because _screw_ this jerk, he wants to fucking kill him.  And then he feels another hand at his waist, hits out again, thinking it’s probably Alex, when he hears Even’s familiar voice, low and comforting in his ear.

“Easy, angel.”

He stills at the sound of it, squeezing his eyes in relief.  Petter has actually looked up from his phone at this point; he starts to march over as Even lets go of Isak, rounds on Nils and delivers a sharp punch to his stomach.

“Naesheim!  What the hell?!” Petter asks, running now, and Even rounds on him.

“Maybe if you were doing your job, you’d notice when one of your students is being fucking _groped_.”

He stares the gym teacher down, and Petter looks slightly panicked.  But Even just shakes his head and pulls Isak by the arm, leading him out of the gym and into the changing rooms.

Isak can feel himself shaking and he tries to push Even away when his boyfriend tries to check him over.  “I’m fine, Even!  Leave me alone.”

Even, of course, does nothing of the sort.  He pulls Isak into an embrace and doesn’t let go until Isak has stopped trembling.  Eventually he whispers, “That was a shitty thing to do to you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Isak says automatically.

“No, it isn’t.  I thought you would just end up cutting class and then I’d get to fuck you during my free period.  I didn’t realise you’d actually-”

“My teacher is an arsehole,” Isak says.  “I tried to argue but he made me go out there.”

“Yeah, I saw him ignoring the game.”

“You were _watching_?” Isak asks, blinking at him.  He glances over to see the one way mirror; through it, he can clearly see the class have resumed the game again, Petter actively watching the class now.  He looks at Even and frowns.

“I was kind of… curious,” Even confesses.  “You look so fucking hot in that outfit.”  And Isak realises he can feels Even’s hard cock pressing into his leg as he pulls him close.  “Your bare thighs... the tightness of that t-shirt,” Isak whimpers as he feels Even’s erection pressing even harder, “and your bare stomach and hips, all creamy and pale, ready for me to grab them and mark them.”

“Somebody else grabbed them before you,” Isak says petulantly.  Even kind of growls at that, and it should sound ridiculous, but with his deep voice, crackly with lust, it just makes Isak squirm with neediness.

“I shouldn’t have left it that long.  I should have come out when I saw you stretching, all exposed like that, with those two dickheads leering at you.”

“Yes, you should have done,” Isak agrees.  Even looks at him playfully.

“Are you sure you didn’t like it?”

Isak can feel himself pouting, and he tries to look angry instead.  “No!”

“You didn’t like them looking… knowing they’re never going to get it?  Knowing you’re mine?”  He tilts Isak’s chin up, forcing him to make eye contact.  “Because I did.  It got me _really_ fucking hot.”

Isak starts to moan as Even touches him on his hips, pulling him closer.  “Fuck, Even, please.  I need…” he trails off, not knowing what he needs, other than Even.  

“If you need something, you ask for it politely,” Even warns him.  His hands trace over Isak’s bare skin, one dropping to his thigh, the other tracing the waistband to his shorts.  “What do you say, baby?”

Isak’s face burns red and he almost chokes the words out.  “Please… _daddy_.  Please fuck me.”

“Here?”

Isak shakes his head, mortified; Even brings his hands up and strokes his hair.

“I…”

“Do you want to cut school early?”

Isak nods, and Even grins at him.  “Come on, then.”  

Isak finds the clothes and bag he’d left on one of the benches and is about to get changed back into his regular outfit when Even stops him, simply making him put his hoodie on over the t-shirt.  Isak looks at Even suspiciously but Even just grins again, patting Isak’s arse, cupping it as he does so.

“Come on, baby.”

Isak squirms in anticipation.

 

***

 

The bus is full on the way home, they so they have to stand.  Even presses into Isak, letting him feel his continued hardness.  At one point he pulls Isak close, slipping his hands under his hoodie and running them along his stomach.  Isak inhales sharply, looking around with wide eyes, but nobody is looking at them.

“Look how hard you’ve made your daddy,” Even whispers in his ear.  “Such a naughty slut.”

Isak trains his eyes up at the roof of the bus and tries not to respond, knowing he’ll embarrass himself if he does.

And then they’re back at the Isak’s place, and it’s silent when they enter, and all Isak can feel is Even pressing into him from behind, kissing his neck frantically before they can even get to the bedroom.  They remove their sneakers at the door and fling their rucksacks down, and then Even is pulling down Isak’s shorts and boxers, unzipping his hoodie, and Isak makes a small whining noise as he realises what Even is doing.

He stands there in the tight t-shirt, the rest of his body exposed, and he tries to move away, tries to get to the bedroom.  But Even kneels down and licks up in between his thighs and Isak presses himself against the wall, willing himself not to cry out with lust.  He doesn’t _think_ anyone is in, but he still feels nervous, out here in the communal area, where anyone can open the front door and see him looking like this.  See him looking _obscene._ He’d almost rather be naked.  He genuinely feels more self-conscious in this t-shirt than he does completely naked with Even.

Even brushes a hand over Isak’s nipples and smiles, and then a possessive expression crosses his face as Isak moans, sensitive to his touch.  Before he knows it, Even has picked him up; he squeals slightly, not expecting it, and wraps his legs around Even’s waist as Even carries him through to the bedroom, large hands under his bum, and deposits him unceremoniously on the bed.

Isak watches, running his tongue over his dry lips, as Even removes his own clothes.  Isak reaches down to take off this _stupid_ t-shirt when Even grabs his wrist.

“Oh no, angel.  That stays on.”

They look at each other in a silent battle of wills, but Isak breaks the gaze first, blushing.  He knows he’ll never win against Even.  He glances up, blinking, when Even laughs slightly.

“You literally have no idea how hot you look in that, do you?”

“Stop it,” Isak says quietly, not feeling comfortable with the focus on his body, which he normally does such a good job of hiding.  But Even grabs his hips and pulls him close, so that Isak is underneath him.

“I won’t,” Even tells him.  He kisses Isak’s mouth, and Isak arches his back, trying to deepen the kiss.  “Because,” Even pulls away, “someone needs to tell you how _beautiful_ you are, how fuckable your body is.”

Isak moans, remembering how Nils had used the same word earlier, and how wrong that had sounded then, and how _right_ it is now, coming from Even.  

Even moves down Isak’s body, parting his legs, and begins to press kisses up Isak’s thighs, pressing his fingers into them until they leave small marks.  And then he begins to suck, leaving one love bite, then one on the other side.  “Who do you spread these legs for?” he asks.  Isak moans, and Even sucks a little harder before pulling away again.  “Say it, baby.”

“You, daddy.  I only spread them for you.”

Even hums contentedly and moves up to Isak’s stomach, sucking just below his belly button as he presses his hands tightly against Isak’s hips.  Isak tries to rear up suddenly, his body’s responses betraying him, making him out to be so goddamn _needy_ for Even’s touch, and Even chuckles as he licks and sucks until he’s made a full red mark here as well.

Isak’s pupils are blown with lust at this point.  He watches Even pull back, and he opens his legs up, wanting Even inside him.  But Even just rakes his eyes over the t-shirt, over the marks he’s just left.

“Nobody sees you like this but me,” he tells Isak, and it sounds like a warning.  Isak nods frantically.  He only ever wants Even to look at him this way.  “If those boys try to touch you again, I’ll make sure they understand.  I’ll claim you in front of them.”

Isak whimpers at the thought: Even holding him possessively, staring down Nils and Alex, threatening them if they get too close.

“I’m sorry, baby.  I’m sorry for putting you through that today.  Do you forgive me?”

If Isak had more self-control he’d tease this out of Even, make him fuck him before granting his forgiveness.  But when Even asks him, all he can do is nod.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes… daddy.”

“Good.” Even straddles him, his legs around his waist.  “Now, we still have the matter of your insolence this morning.”

Isak burns at that, suddenly remembering the way he acted this morning.  He tries to turn his face to the side, to bury it in the pillow, but Even grabs his jaw, a playful smirk on his face that Isak has learnt means nothing good.

“I’m half tempted to admit that you’ve probably had your punishment already.  Did _you_ feel like that was an appropriate punishment, angel?”

“Yes,” Isak gasps when Even squeezes his jaw a little tighter.  “Yes, daddy. It was _awful_.”  He widens his eyes and works himself up to a point where he’s able to cry a little.  If he isn’t going to get fucked, as much as he wants that, maybe he can at least get out of an actual punishment.

But Even pulls away from him with a small chuckle.  “You’re such a fucking liar.”

“It _was_ ,” Isak says, wiping tears away.  “I hated them touching me and looking at me.”

“But not as much as you hate it when I’m _disappointed_ with you.”

Isak looks away, embarrassed, as he sniffles slightly.  Of course Even is right about that.  There’s _nothing_ worse than disappointing Even, though Isak seems to manage it so often.  Even’s face softens slightly when he sees the shift in Isak’s expression, and he taps his cheek.

“We’ll make this quick, okay?  I want you on your hands and knees, facing the wall.  Arse in the air.”

Isak’s limbs feel like lead as he moves into place.  He still feels uncomfortable and restricted in the tight t-shirt.  Even is somewhere behind him, and when Isak lifts his hips up in order to raise his arse, he hears him groan.

“You. Are. Filthy.”

Isak blushes, still wiping away tears, and then he feels a sharp slap to his bum.  He squeals, because even though it wasn’t that hard, he wasn’t expecting it, and then Even slaps it again.

“Why am I doing this, baby?”

“Because - _agh_ \- because I… I was rude this morning.”

“Who to?”  Another slap.  Isak feels real tears at his eyes now.  He just wants this to be over, but there is always a small part of him that craves this sort of acknowledgement of his behaviour, so he's able to move on from it.

“To… to Eskild… and you… and Sana.”

“ _How_ were you rude,” Even asks, his voice low in warning, his hand coming down against Isak’s now stinging skin.

“I… I was snappy and - _fuck_ \- I didn’t say thank you for breakfast, and I said rude things,” Isak whimpers.  His voice cracks and suddenly he’s crying properly.

“We’re almost there,” Even tells him, his voice low and comforting, and Isak nods, needing to hear that.  “Now tell me _why_ you were rude.  It’s okay.  Be honest.”

Isak takes a deep breath.  “Because… I hate Mondays.  I hate gym class.  I hate… I hate being in the same lesson as those two…” he tenses expecting another slap, and when he doesn’t receive it, he says, “those two boys.  The ones that were grabbing me.  Because they… they’re dicks.  They always say gross things to me.”

Even slaps him one more time, but it’s light.  More of a caress, really.  Then Isak hears him climb up on the bed properly, hugging Isak round the waist and pulling him close, pressing kisses to his neck.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because… it’s just… you know...   _Boys being boys_.”

Even sighs.  “I’m going to take care of them.”

“Like, _Mafia_ style?”

“Maybe.”  Even chuckles softly and kisses Isak’s cheek from the side.  “We’ll talk about this later, okay?  We’ll make sure you’re okay.  I love you, baby.”  Isak nods, melting slightly at the sincerity of the words, at how much he trusts Even.  But, there's no denying it, he’s pretty distracted right now.  He can still feel his boyfriend’s hard cock, pressing against his arse.  He feels like Even has been taunting him all day with it, and he pushes back, grinding slightly.

“You’re still ready for my cock?  Even after that?”

“Yes, daddy,” Isak says, grinding slightly.  “I’m... “

“You’re what?”

“I’m… _I’m always ready_ for it.”

Even groans.  “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

He stretches across Isak and finds some lube in the bedside cabinet; Isak hears him squeezing it out but he stays exactly where Even wants him, on his knees, looking forward.  He hitches a breath when he feels Even’s slick fingers parting his arsecheeks and brushing against his hole before inserting one, then two, opening him up before feeling around with three of them pressing in.  Isak keens slightly, falling forwards so he’s back on his hands and knees, and Even chuckles.

“So dirty, wanting me to do you from behind.”

“Yes,” Isak says, because that’s _exactly_ what it is - dirty as hell - and he’s ashamed at how much he gets off on it sometimes.  Not every time, because he loves it when he could see Even’s face, but today it just feels… necessary.  Even chuckles again.

“Look at you.  Arse raised up, that ridiculous t-shirt stretched across your smooth skin.  Your long legs look so fucking hot like this, baby.  Your arse is so pale and perfect.  And your hips… I’m going to grab them as I’m thrusting into you.  Going to squeeze hard.  You want that?”

Isak nods, just wanting to feel Even’s cock inside of him, but Even squeezes his arse warningly with his free hand.  

“Yes, daddy, I want it,” he remembers to say.

And then Even gives him what he’s wishing for.  He removes his fingers and eases his cock in, and it feels so _good_.  It feels amazing.  Isak pants softly as Even works his way in further, and then he begins  to moan, barely coherent, when Even’s cock is fully sheathed.

“Feels okay?” Even asks, taking hold of his hips.  Isak moans in response and Even thrusts, pushing Isak forward but keeping a tight grip on his hips.

“Tell me, angel.  Tell me how good it feels.”

“So… so… good…” Isak whimpers, barely able to get even those three simple words out.

“Would any cock feel good in here?” Even asks, and Isak sobs, shaking his head.

“No…. just yours… daddy.”

Even groans and thrusts in harder.  “Just mine?”

Isak sobs, feeling Even’s hands pressing bruisingly into his hips.  He pushes back, needing Even to be in as far as he can go.  And Even indulges him, filling every part of him, it feels, as he slams into Isak repeatedly, holding him so tightly, his large hands so easily keeping Isak in place.  

He reaches down to Isak’s own hard cock, and he barely needs to brush it before Isak is coming, babbling incoherently as the climax rips through him, leaving him feeling ruined.

Even isn’t done yet, though.  He continues to thrust, bringing his hands up to grab Isak’s t-shirt; he pulls so hard that Isak feels it tear at the shoulder.  “Daddy,” Isak sobs, grinding back, wanting to make this good for him, and Even swears and speeds up and then he’s pulling out, and Isak gasps, wondering what he’s doing.

He only needs to wonder for a second: he feels Even’s cum hit his arse and then Even raises himself further and it soaks the back of his t-shirt, groaning with satisfaction as he does so.

Isak shivers at the way this feels; Even has covered so much of his lower body in cum that he almost shudders at how dirty he must look right now.  And then Even is finished, pulling Isak back towards him, laughing slightly in disbelief.

“I’ve never come that hard before.”

“I can feel,” Isak says, trying not to sound like he’s complaining, because he really, _really_ isn’t.

Even looks at him and kisses him deeply, and when he pulls away, Isak follows him with his mouth, needing more.  But Even looks at him with an appraising look, and Isak wonders how filthy he must look like now, with his messed up hair and red, just-kissed lips, and his torn t-shirt and Even’s cum smeared all over him.

“Nobody sees you like this but me,” Even says, repeating himself from earlier.  “As much as they want to.  I’m the only one.”

Isak rests his head against Even’s chest, as Even pulls him down onto the bed, spooning into him from behind.  

He knows Even is right.  And the feeling makes him feel safe.  More than safe.  

He sighs contentedly, closing his eyes as Even hold him close. Within minutes, he falls back into the sleep that he was so rudely awoken from this morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are wonderful and fantastical, if you have a moment to share. <3


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